If You Think We've Got a Chance
by Drifterchick482
Summary: Hook ambushes Emma early one morning in her office with interesting intentions in mind. Rated T for language. Also, fluff.


Storybrooke was a far cry from Neverland. Hell, it was a far cry from the world Snow and Charming ruled, the world he had lived in until he had followed the four women through the portal and to Earth. Unfortunately, stealth didn't matter when you exited the other end and found yourself falling on top of a certain blond lie detector. Thankfully, however, Emma had been merciful and hadn't taken him to jail.

In fact, two months later, he was still a free man and still unsuccessfully courting Emma. Her defenses had to be made of something stronger than stone because he was having one hell of a time getting in. And all of his frustration and wounded pride had gotten him was into an argument with the fair Princess and damn it all to hell, that was not what he had wanted.

And it had taken him days to figure out how to make it up to her, but even then, she wasn't having that. Wasn't having that at all. Regardless of the fact that he had apologized, regardless of the fact that he hadn't told (her) a lie since he had come to Storybrooke, regardless of the fact that he had followed every rule she had put into place, she still didn't trust him.

So, when she came into work one morning and found him sitting in an open prison cell, his eyebrow rose at the expression that crossed her face. Confused, at first, then angry, then lost. And then her face became an impassive mask. "Turning yourself in for something?"

"No," he replied, rising to his feet. "But sometimes I do my best thinking under lock and key for ten hours."

"What do you want, Hook?"

"Killian, please. As for what I want? Haven't you figured that out yet?"

She leaned against her desk, arms folding across her chest as she studied him. She knew exactly what it was that he wanted. She just didn't want to admit it. He was a pirate, after all, and he couldn't be trusted. All those thoughts ran through her head, but in the back of her mind, she heard loud and clear the message her heart tried to send. "Why?"

Killian let a smile twist his lips, shaking his head as he stepped out of the cell and approached her. "You're not the only orphan in the room, you know." He responded, his voice light despite the weight his words carried. Emma's face registered her shock at his confession. He waited until he was certain that the full weight of what he had just told her had sunk in before he continued. "I just want a chance, that's all. I want a chance to prove myself to you. So far, you've cut me off before I can try."

The bombshell he had just dropped on her head left her mind hazy for a few moments as she thought back to their conversation on the beanstalk. He didn't just recognize that look because he had spent time with the Lost Boys. He had been one of them. He knew what it was like to be left behind, left alone. "You don't give up, do you?"

"I love a challenge." He responded, stepping closer.

"So what are you saying, H-Killian? That you want me? That-_what_, Killian, because I'll be damned if I know."

"Gods, Emma. Have you not seen it yet? I've put my life on the line for you, with the giant, with Cora. I've even respected your demand that I do not go after that blasted Crocodile. Why would I do that for someone I didn't give a damn about? Bloody hell, Emma! You put up so many walls it leaves you blind to people who may actually be willing to stay in your life. Stop _fighting_ me and_let me in_." For the first time, Killian let his walls down too, let his eyes say the words his lips wouldn't. He was leaving himself open and vulnerable to whatever pain she could dish out, hoping beyond hope that maybe, just maybe, she would let him in.

"You're saying you want stay in my life? How can I believe that?"

"I'm here, aren't I? I came to your world for you. Not Gold, not Cora, not revenge. I came here for _you_." He responded, shaking his head. "I will admit that my original plans were different, but that changed, Emma, the moment I toppled into you and saw your face when you realized you were home. When I saw you with your family, with your son." He paused, afraid to tread these waters now, but doggedly determined to press on. "I realized then that I wanted to keep you safe."

"Do you think we even have a chance?" She asked, part of her walls caving inward.

Her words blindsided him. He was expecting pain, not hope. Hope may have been the last thing he needed, but it was far more welcome than the pain he was expecting. "We won't find out if we don't try, Princess."

"We do make a pretty good team." She admitted, stepping closer to the pirate. With no preamble or warning, Killian reached up to brush the hair from her face, fingertips gently brushing over her cheek. She didn't pull away or flinch, instead pressing her cheek into his hand. It always surprised her, how gentle he was with her. Not to mention how good he was around Henry, which was important.

"So?" He queried, dropping his hand.

"So," she countered, shifting a bit, nervous. "I'm no good at this, Killian. The last relationship I was in… he died in my arms."

"And do you think I would ever allow myself to do that to you, Gods, Emma -to put you through that kind of pain?" He asked, a brow shooting up. He was immediately reminded of himself, of Milah. Of how Milah had died and how similar her story sounded to his. It was then that he realized that they were two sides of the same coin. Yin and Yang. Balances. "Emma?"

She stared at him for a long moment, studying him, weighing everything he had said, everything she felt. She was attracted to him, yes. And in so far, he hadn't lied to her a second time. He had followed the rules in Storybrooke, hadn't blindingly gone off to exact revenge on Gold. Perhaps he was capable of doing the honorable thing. Maybe he was capable of trust. She watched him close the distance between the two of them and she reached up to trace her fingers across his face, over the slight stubble, over his cheekbone.

Killian took the opportunity to lean closer, her hand against his cheek, his eyes darting to her lips to her eyes, as if asking for permission. It was nanoseconds before the pirate made his move, leaning closer to press his lips gently to hers. He had needed this; a simple kiss that explained almost everything he felt, that could possibly quantify to her about what she meant to him.

Emma pulled away, with the stunningly daunting task of following her heart falling into her lap. She searched his face, his eyes for any trace of a lie, betrayal and found none. She was shaken to her core, finding that she had been wrong - that he could be trusted. "Killian," she tested the name on her tongue now, feeling much more invasive and informal than maybe it was supposed to. "Just don't break my heart."

He responded but pulling her into him by his hook and smiling softly, unable, at the moment, to find any comforting words to tell her except, "It's called trust, Emma."

Clearly, they still had a lot to work on.


End file.
